Such Stuff Ch 09

Part 9

The Bulliest Dreams

Lizzie could not avoid it. She needed the book for her essay, it was due in Mon­day and it was now late Saturday afternoon. She would have to go to the book­shop. With resignation she trudged up the street to the shop, outside she took a deep breath and pushed open the door, the yellow tie and black shirt hit her as she came through the door. He was looking straight at her, automatically she flashed a smile and hurriedly turned and went to look for the book. She found it quickly and went to the till to pay.

"Ah, you are studying the American Civil War? Very interesting period. Robert E. Lee probably ranks with Wellington as one of the great generals, un­like Grant. What happened in the South after that war, you know the re-con­struction period, is also fascinating. Have you read Mark Twain?"

Lizzie took a deep breath. Was he trying to be friendly, being a good book­seller knowledgeable and interesting or.... "Yes I've read some of his books."

From under the counter he produced an omnibus version of 'Tom Sawyer' and the 'Adventures of Huckleberry Finn'. "You should read these," he said leaning forward. Surely he was not really looking down her cleavage?

Lizzie nodded; she did not really want to say again that she had already read them.

"So you didn't like the 'Swiss Family Robinson' then? Thought I'd see you on their island," he looked straight at Lizzie and the smile dropped from his face, "but I didn't."

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?" Lizzie was really taken aback.

"What did you dream of last night?" Conrad demanded.

"I really can't remember and I don't think I want to discuss such ephemera with strangers. It's none of your business."

Conrad's smile re-appeared, "Sorry, I'm just interested in dreams."

Lizzie thought there was more to it than that but she was certainly not going to prolong the conversation. She paid for her book and escaped back to write her essay. She worked long into the night and it was one o'clock before she looked up from her desk and realised it was way past her bedtime. She fell into bed and a deep sleep.

Lizzie wondered where her nocturnal mind had taken her, what was she dreaming about now and where she might be? She sat up and rubbed her eyes and looked around. It was the cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred; not a sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdrops stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered a fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. There beside her on the bare ground were two boys fast asleep.

She stood, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; present­ly the hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life manifested itself. "Now where am I this time, Wild Cat Island?" She walked through the trees towards a glimmer of water as Nature shook off sleep.

Out of the trees she stood on the sand of the river's shore. She was amazed at the width of the river. That it was a river and not a lake was obvious from the water's movement and the swirls of current further out, but it was wider than she thought possible.

From behind her she heard a shout, "There's Huck, come on Joe." Lizzie's eyes widened. She was Huckleberry Finn, surely not, her hand dropped to her thighs, no she was a girl not a boy, she felt her breast, nothing there, so she was a young girl on Jackson's Island. 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer' had ac­tually been one of her favorite books as a girl though that was not something she would have told Conrad in the bookshop. She loved the boys' adventures and had often played at being pirates hidden away on Jackson's Island with Tom Sawyer, Huck Finn and Joe Harper.

Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi River was a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, wooded island, with a shallow bar at the head of it. It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the fur­ther shore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson's Island was chosen by Tom Sawyer and his crew to run away from home and be pirates.

The other pirates came up and with a shout called her to join them. They all clattered away down the shore Lizzie running with them, Huck and Joe pulling off clothes as they ran. Lizzie was a bit reticent, but it was a dream after all, and in a minute or two all were stripped and chasing after and tum­bling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white sandbar. In the way of children, in that the trivial things are not important and then suddenly are, it took the boys quite some time to notice Lizzie was different.

"Hey Huck, you're... ain't that right Tom, he's a she," called Joe. Tom stopped his running and splashing and looked at Lizzie.

"Never knew that Joe. How come Hucky?"

"Dunno," said Lizzie, " seems that's how it's always been. Anythin' wrong with girls?"

"Can women be pirates?" said Joe.

"I reckon they can. And don't they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh no! All gold and silver and di'monds," said Tom, with enthusiasm.

"She's not got a stitch on," said Joe.

"That's 'cos we're swimmin'."

And back to swimming they went, the fact of Tom, or rather Lizzie, being a girl quickly irrelevant.

They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, glad-hearted, and ravenous; and they soon had the camp-fire blazing up again. Tom found a spring of clear cold water close by, and they made cups of broad oak or hicko­ry leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a wildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee. While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom asked him to hold on a minute; Lizzie and he stepped to a promising nook in the river-bank and threw in their lines; almost immediately they had reward. Joe had not had time to get impatient before they were back again with some handsome bass, a couple of sun-perch and a small catfish—provisions enough for quite a family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and were astonished; for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did not know that the quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he is caught the bet­ter he is; and they reflected little upon what a sauce open-air sleeping, open-air exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient of hunger make, too.

They lay around in the shade, after breakfast and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. They took a swim about every hour, so it was early afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too hungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and then threw them­selves down in the shade to talk.

For some time, now, they had been dully conscious of a peculiar sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. They started, glanced at each other, and then each as­sumed a listening attitude.

"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath.

"Let's go and see."

They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town. They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The little steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, drifting with the current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. Lizzie watched them in their old fash­ioned clothes. One man particularly caught her eye. Surely it couldn't be? But it did look like him. A young man in black clothes with a bright yellow waist­coat seemed to be staring at them. As the boat drifted past he raised his hat and seemed to Lizzie to be looking straight at her, however much she shrunk back into the darkness of the bushes along the shore.

The boat went and the gang turned to hunting for turtle eggs on the bar. They went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a soft place they went down on their knees and dug with their hands. They had a famous fried-egg feast. Lizzie had so much fun. The three stretched out after the feast and dozed until mid afternoon.

Lizzie's eyes opened, to her pleasure, because she had had so much fun, just like she had always imagined Jackson's Island to be with Tom, she found despite dozing she was still on the island. She woke the others and they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and chased each other round and round, shedding clothes as they went, until they were naked. It was at this mo­ment that Lizzie and, indeed the boys realized something was different. She was not looking at two little boys anymore but two grown boys: they were look­ing back at her and not seeing a little girl, little different from them, but a grown woman with womanly attributes.

The boys went very silent, only to be broken by Tom saying, in order to get the fun going again, "Let's have a pissing contest," in his usual enthusias­tic way.

Lizzie wondered if it was the sort of thing pirates really did, though she could imagine it was fairly typical of boys. She tried to be un-enthusiastic but Tom and Joe were up for it. Each started downing great quantities of water and Lizzie felt obliged to follow suite.

Tom marked out the contest arena by drawing a line across the sand. The boys stood either side of Lizzie, hands on their cocks. Lizzie really couldn't see she had any chance and it seemed a fairly pointless activity. She couldn't aim, for one thing, and even if she lay down she doubted she would achieve the boys' range because, to start with, she would be starting from a lower position. Tom went first. His stream arched up and forward. Lizzie was impressed by his range even if it seemed a stupid thing to do. She was surprised to find she quite liked watching Tom's cock hosing away. Joe came next. She observed, in passing, that his cock was bigger but Lizzie did not think this would make any difference. She may or may not have been right but Joe's stream went a good foot further than Tom's.

It was Lizzie's turn next. Before she could start the boys took hold of a thigh and a buttock each and lifted her up to aim her. She strongly suspected the whole thing was a ruse to get her to splay her legs. Cer­tainly the boys watched her sex expectantly and with great interest.

"Probably don't know where I pee from" thought Lizzie." They held her exactly at the starting line waiting for something to happen. "Here goes," thought Lizzie. She released the pressure that had built on her bladder and her own stream arched forward. It was a more impressive sight than the boys, a much stronger flow but, as Lizzie expected, it did not have the range. As Lizzie had also antici­pated the exposure of her sex and her performance had its natural effect on the boys. Their cocks were elevating, moving from the horizontal to the near verti­cal, thickening and causing Lizzie to more than glance.

"You lost Huck," said Tom, "I was first and Joe second. Girls don't seem to have the knack. Mighty interesting looking at you though. Look what it's done to our cocks. What can our prize be?" They let her down to the ground.

Lizzie thought she'd better ease their swelling. She reached out and took one penis in each hand. She smiled; she had not in her dreams held two cocks at the same time before. She liked the feeling of control. The boys had become very still. She began stroking their hard cocks looking first at one, then the other. They were certainly no longer like the cocks of little boys, dreams changed things so quickly and sometimes for the better! They rose a good six or seven inches, depending on which boy, from nests of curly dark hair. Tom's was undoubtedly the thicker of the two, really quite solid, but Joe's the longer. Both their knobs were increasingly shiny and she could still detect a little mois­ture in the little slits surmounting each dome. The nature of the moisture would soon, if she had her way, change.

"Let's sit on that log, Tom and Joe."

The quietened boys were content to be meekly led by their cocks. Lizzie sat in the middle of a blown over tree trunk with the two naked boys either side of her, a cock in each of her hands. She loved this dream, an island, hot sun and two boy's cocks to play with. She pulled the cocks down low towards the ground whilst continuing to manipulate them and then let them go. She gig­gled as they sprung up and smacked against the two boy's stomachs. Reach­ing between their thighs she massaged their balls. Tom's were already quite hairy and tight against him but Joe's were devoid of hair and slack. She swung his balls a little from side to side before gently pulling the soft skin of his scro­tum this way and that. The boys sighed and lent their heads against Lizzie.

"Do you like that, is that a good prize." The boys were not going to dis­agree with this, no, not at all.

"I reckon so!" said Joe.

"It's NUTS!" said Tom. "What would the boys say if they could see us?"

"Say? Well, they'd just die to be here—hey, Hucky!"

"Would you like to try a different sort of contest?" The boys indicated they were quite content with the present activity.

"Let's see who can shoot the furthest."

"What, when we cum?"

"That's about it."

They were, of course, up for it.

Lizzie returned to stroking their cocks.

"Now Tom, Joe you're to tell me when you're near cumming so I can stop. I want to see you spurt together if I can, so we can judge the winner."

"Hold off Hucky!" said Joe with a gasp. Lizzie let go of Joe but continued to work Tom, her slim fingers sliding over his thick penis.

She waited a little and then resumed stroking Joe. Both boys were breath­ing fast. Lizzie was a little turned on by the activity, she could feel her nipples lengthening but neither boy seemed to have thought to touch her. Her thighs opened and closed slightly. It would be nice to have a breast or her sex touched by at least one boy and..."

"Stop, I'm goin' to spunk!" It was Tom's cry this time. Lizzie had almost overdone it, a bubble of semen appeared out of the end of Tom's cock but that was all. He had been very close and had just held back. But he had lost some fluid; he might not now win the contest. He was not best pleased.

Lizzie went back to working the boys. By and by, stopping and starting, she got her two cocks primed. Both boys indicated they were "on the edge". Skillfully with just slight touches she brought and kept them at that point. It was great fun for Lizzie having the control of two boys, two boys straining to go, their cocks in her hands.

"You're ready now? If I pull fast, are you both ready to fire?" The boys as­sented; keen for release, possibly even keener to win. They lent forward watch­ing to see which penis shot furthest.

Lizzie moved her hands faster, "Hold back as long as you can." The boys nodded, gritting their teeth, and then in unison two strings of semen flew out of the ends of their two cocks and across the sand. Lizzie did not relax her ef­fort or pace and further spurts shot onto the sand but not reaching the dis­tance of the first. As the spurts finished and the cocks' output reduced to a trickle, Lizzie slowed her strokes and came to rest. She turned and kissed Joe,

"Well done Joe, what a distance!"

She turned to Tom, who was looking downcast, "Never mind, I expect you'll win the next game."

Tom was not downhearted for very long. Lizzie stood and turned back to Joe only to feel a hard smack on her bottom, "You..." she cried and dashed after him trying to catch Tom. Joe ran after them, his penis softening as he ran. They continued the frolic far away up the shoalwater of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped their legs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun. And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each other's faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally grip­ping and struggling till the best man, or woman, ducked his neighbor, and then they all went under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blow­ing, sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time.

When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the dry, hot sand, and lie there and cover themselves up with it, and by and by break for the water again and go through the original performance once more. Lizzie thought how fun it was to become almost decent with their sand clothes, though the boy's cocks and her nipples were clearly defined despite being cov­ered by sand, and then run into the water and be suddenly completely naked with each other.

As the afternoon wore on towards evening the boys recovered and Lizzie noticed their penises were again beginning to swell a little when they touched her. The gripping and struggling become more personal. Hands on her breasts, bottom and on her sex, cocks similarly touching her when wrestling. It was time, thought Lizzie, not herself immune to the sexiness of being with two naked young men, for some new game.

The three of them grew quiet. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing crept upon them. Tom looked at Lizzie, Joe looked at Lizzie, and Lizzie looked at them both. As she looked their cocks lifted, jerking steadily upwards as the blood pumped into them, becoming stiff and ready for Lizzie's pleasure. Her own sex began to wet in response, her nipples to harden.

"Hucky shall we have another contest?" asked Joe shyly.

"I dono," said Tom, "I reckon not. I reckon what we should do is fuck."

"Hey, like what cows and horses do?" said Joe, "How'd we going to do that?"

"Well we got Hucky and all. You game Huck?"

Lizzie was

"It's just a matter of who's first."

"Well I won the spunkin' contest, so I goes first."

"Dern'd if I will," said Tom.

Lizzie was not going to let them have an argument, she didn't want them fighting over her. Though secretly the idea of these two fine young men fight­ing, cockproud, over her was not an unattractive image. She took control of matters in her own way. As they argued standing a few feet apart, Lizzie dropped to her knees and regarded the two cocks in front of her. Before the boys realized what was happening she had slipped Joe's cockhead into her mouth. It was smooth and warm in the afternoon heat. Lizzie sucked and licked. The boys had gone suddenly quiet and were staring down at Lizzie, eyes wide open.

"Why, Huck, you've got Joe's... How'd you think of doin' that?"

Lizzie did not answer but sucked half of Joe's cock into her mouth. It was too long for her to go further.

"Hey, where's it gone Joe? What's it feel like?"

"'Tain't half bad. Huck's true-blue, ain't she Tom?"

Lizzie brought the cockhead back up from her throat and out of her mouth. She looked up at Joe, smiled as seductively as she could, and let her tongue slide slowly over the end of his cock causing a seepage of semen. It was getting a bit much for Joe, Lizzie licked the end of his cock again catching the sticky semen on her tongue and pulling it away to hang for a moment as a strand 'twixt penis and tongue. Joe almost came right there!

"Hold off Hucky, that's mighty good but let me rest!"

Tom pushed his thick cock in Lizzie's direction.

"And do you reckon I can suck that thing, Tom Sawyer?" said Lizzie, whilst very much meaning to do just that. She was getting really quite wet and enjoying this dream very much.

"Duno, but you're goin' to try, ain't you Hucky, please?"

Lizzie tentatively licked the presented cockhead. It certainly was thick. She took hold of it with her hand and pulled it from side to side across her tongue moving the cock rather than her head. Pursing her lips she pushed the head into her soft lips still licking the tip. Tom was impatient and pushed for­ward. Lizzie however had a firm hand on him and held him back.